


New Guy

by Wayward_Dragon



Series: How To Zoo Your Boss [1]
Category: Dino Squad
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Dinosaurs, Gen, Mentions of Vore, POV Second Person, migrated from dreamwidth, playing fast and loose with canon, punch-clock villainy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 07:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23967586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayward_Dragon/pseuds/Wayward_Dragon
Summary: Imagine Working For Victor Veloci.Its 2008 and the economy just crashed as you were getting out of college.Then you get an e-mail.
Series: How To Zoo Your Boss [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727980
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	New Guy

**Author's Note:**

> This is what covid has brought me to.  
> Writing cracky fanfic for a show literally three people I have ever seen know about.
> 
> Thank you to @ captaincassidy on dreamwidth for the inspiration!
> 
> If you will excuse me, im going to binge this trainwreck of a show again.  
> Hnnng dinosaurs,,,

Its 2008 and you get emailed by Raptordyne, looking for people with your degree to apply for jobs.

You look up the CEO and he's this hot, really rich, probably gay businessman with dyed streaks in his hair in charge of some labs or whatever. Cool, you don't judge, you need money, there isn't a lot of jobs, and the economy is in shambles.

It offers a kind of dodgy healthcare plan and about 500 nondisclosure forms, you take the job. You'll be commuting for 45+ minuets every day mostly on backroads but, hey, its a job.  
Its then the problems start.

Your supervisor hands you a skintight bodysuit in grey and black and some tactical looking surplus army clothes and tells you to suit up so you can have orientation.  
When you're done, the supervisor hands you the gaudiest helmet you've ever seen.  
You think hes shitting you but everyone else is putting the damn things on, so OK. Sure.

There's dinosaurs on _everything_. CEOs got a thing for Jurassic Park, apparently. This outfit looks like a fetish thing. God, _whatever,_ you need a paycheck, you can't back out now.  
Then your supervisor runs you through your orientation. Its bonkers. They are working what you are pretty sure is _actual magic_ and they aren't even using it for anything super important, just... weird shit. Raptordyne's _actual_ company goal is to bring dinosaurs back in the place of current species.

None of these animals are real dinosaurs.

It feels like a fever dream.

You really can't back out now, you're pretty sure you'll be found dead in an alley or something if you do.  
  
Then your manager sighs and says, "Well, guess its time to feed the boss."  
You are concerned, but follow. The manager trudges into a walk-in fridge and pulls out several slabs of high-quality steak. He adds a little garnish of parsley before you wonder where you're going to cook it.

Does. Does this CEO eat actual raw steak _what the fuck_ you are so glad you have a helmet on to hide your reactions.  
"I know," Your manager says sympathetically, correctly guessing your thoughts.  
He washes his hands and you go with him into the CEOs office. Half hoping this is a joke, that your manager is just hazing you.

Your manager says, "Dont scream."  
Which isn't a thing you like to hear. At all.

Then your boss laughs like a supervillain and turns into a Jurassic Park-style velociraptor. _Its not even anatomically correct_ , you think faintly as your boss crunches into a plate of raw meat with all the finesse of a battering ram.  
 _Its not even a good diet to raw-feed animals on._ There isn't enough bone or entrails, which you know because your cousin raw-feeds her dog and talked your ear off about it at the last family gathering.

Scratch being dead in a ditch, you are going to be _literally fed to your boss_ if you quit.

You think you might be in shock.

When your manager steers you out, he claps you on the shoulder, "You did good today! That bodes well for your stay here! Remember where your locker is for tomorrow. Show up early to get your gear on so you don't have to rush."

* * *

Its your second day at Raptordyne. You put on your dinosaur suit begrudgingly and punch in. This still feels like a fever dream.

You googled 'boss turns into reptile' last night and all it gave you was racist garbage and weird porn, so it looks like you're on your own.

You work in the lab, mostly. At first only moving things around and then checking equipment- which is good because you are science major not a magic major and the shit they are doing in this lab violates _at least_ three laws of physics. You want to know how it works but also it occurs to you that you are kind of working for a supervillain and knowing how it works might obligate you to stop it and that means you're out of work again.

So its whatever.

In the break room for your sector its surprisingly normal. There's a few folks in there with their helmets off- its nice to see your DINOSAUR SUPERVILLAIN BOSS is an equal opportunity employer. Your manager is in there too, nursing what looks like a third cup of coffee.

"Hey! New guy," says the fellow by the water cooler, "Hows it sinking in?"

"Its sinking," You say. Because you don't want to say anything that will get you fed to The Raptorboss.

The older lady who was built like a brick shithouse barks out a laugh, "Yeah, you'll do alright, baby scientist."  
You feel like maybe you should be offended abut the baby comment but also you are pretty fresh out of grad school so its not inaccurate.  
Your fellow employees have great camaraderie and a concerning sense of gallows humor, they take you under their wing immediately.

You hum the Jurassic Park theme under your breath as you cart more samples back and forth. Your fellow lab rat snickers and joins in.  
Yeah, if you don't get eaten, you'll do alright here.

You have a week of your new normal. You discover only managers get the dubious honor of feeding your raptorboss, which fills you with a relief you can't even _begin_ to describe.  
Then your manager finds you and declares, "Finish up, we're doing a field test."

There isn't much to finish up. You are piled in the back of a really expensive and tacky dinosaur-themed utility truck with five other unlucky saps. There's piles of weird equipment and the questionably radioactive glowing orange goo in tanks.

The one next to you nudges you, and _oh!_ Its water cooler guy. The guy starts talking, "Alright, newbie. This is a thing that happens every so often, you get used to it. But the important thing to remember is that _You are only paid to do your job, not a task more_."

He fixes you with an intent look, "Doing extra wont get you anything. _Don't do anything, say anything, or report anything that isn't to the letter of your job._ Its more trouble than its worth. If its above your job description, let it be."

Is this a secret union talk? Does raptorboss hate unions? You just nod awkwardly.

The job is simple, spray orange goo everywhere.  
This violates at least thirty laws. You keep thinking you're about to get shot by a game warden. You don't.

You and your co-henchmen go have lunch at the little picnic area set up. Its nice and sunny and the birds are singing and- you just saw a massive scaly squirrel with horns run by.

Before you can say anything, Watercooler Guy says, "Yeah that happens. Remember, _not your problem._ "  
You go back to your food.

"Nice! Newbie learns quick," says the burly guy with snakebite piercings, "People that don't learn quick get eaten by the mad science experiments."

You don't like that statement at all.

Out of the corner of your eye you see some figures on vibrantly colored and really sick looking motorcycles pull up and dismount.

"Um," You say, looking from the interlopers(who are looking more and more like a gaggle of teens) to your coworkers.  
"Definitely above your paygrade," Watercooler says with the wisdom of someone who has mastered the art of most pay for least effort, "Remember your job description, newbie."

You finish your lunch.

You hear some earsplitting roaring and fight the urge to do anything about it.  
"Ah," says Snakebite, "It's the T-Rex again."  
You very carefully don't spit out your drink.

"Don't worry," says the guy next to you finishing a bagel with some kind of fruit spread, "He hardly ever maims anyone, and it's usually by accident besides."

"There's a T-Rex," You say, because you won't touch that last statement.

"Yeah," says Bagel with great relish, "And a Spinosarus, a Pteranodon, a Stegosaurus, and a Triceratops."

"Actually, its a Styracosaurus, he has some kinda funky thing with his horns that makes him look like a Triceratops, but the crown makes him definitely a Styracosaurus," says the fellow lab tech.

Bagel waves his hands, "Whatever, none of them look like proper dinosaurs anyway, not even Raptorboss. It doesn't matter in the long run. They arrive like clockwork on outings like this and fuck shit up."

"Uh," You say, trying to process more crazy shit.

You think back to the five teens on what looked like Dinosaur-themed bikes, "You think they're," You mime raptor hands, "Like the boss?"

Watercooler exchanges looks with Paleo Facts and said very carefully, "The official story is that there is a cell of _unknown humans_ hiding real dinosaurs that the ooze worked properly on. They're simply animals and we need to know which ones it worked so well on. This is what The Boss knows."

Oh, so everyone's just pretending to not know humans make for true dinosaurs, not fucked up animals panicking. Probably for the best.

"Cool," You say, "Mystery animals as dinosaurs, mystery saboteur cells above my paygrade, remember job description, got it."  
The table relaxes. It seems like you passed some sort of test.

Yeah, you think, as you pointedly ignore some clearly teen girl carrying really dumb-looking equipment through the underbrush, you can get the hang of this punch-clock villain thing.

* * *

The conversation in the breakroom today shifts towards your boss.

"I mean," Bagel Guy says, gesturing with his food of choice, "He doesn't seem opposed to eating people, but also he's pretty choosy about his food, apparently. I only get orders for high quality beef and venison."

Paleo Facts pushes up her glasses, "He _has_ to be eating more, his condition is too good to not be getting the essential minerals in bone and entrail material."

"People probably," Snakebite says.

"That'd be a way to go, huh?" Says another guy you've been on shifts with a few times.

"Oh no," Says Watercooler, rolling his eyes, "Now you've done it."

"What?" You say, and the other guy perks up while Watercooler drains his coffee mug.

"The teeth, the _claws_ , have you heard him chuff yet? Its a _heartstopping_ sound! If I had to be eaten by anyone, it'd be him!"

...Ah.

Vore guy waxes poetic for a little while longer. The poor man is hopelessly in love with raptorboss. Its a little embarrassing, you can see why Watercooler was exasperated, but also it's kind of endearing?

"He's like, a secret dinosaur, man," Snakebite says, "Does he even like humans? Or men? Or human men?"

You all ponder that for a moment.

"Maybe?" You say, awkwardly into the silence.

None of you are going to ask him, that's for sure.

"So," You say, because you kind of feel bad for the guy. He's doomed to unrequited pining for Raptorboss, "Do we know if he's a human who turns into a raptor, or a raptor who turns into a human?"

There is more awkward silence.

Paleo Facts then says, "I mean, considering the current intelligence on the rogue dinosaurs, I think the second one is implausible."

Snakebite huffs, "But so is the first one! My money is on him being some kind of chaos god."

Bagel elbows him, "You've been reading too much Marvel dude! That's just _too_ crazy!"

You think about how nonsensical everything here is as Vore Guy professes that if Veloci was a god it would make him even sexier.

"Yeah," you mumble.

"Crazy."


End file.
